(My family has recently become proud owners of a six-month-old border collie. She has quickly become the light of our lives, but she becomes very attached to my dad right away. One day, my dad and I are driving with our dog in the back seat. She is really enjoying the ride, switching from one window to the other with a huge grin on her face. My dad looks in the rear view mirror and starts baby-talking to her.)
Me: “Aww, Dad, you really love [Dog], don’t you?”
Dad: jokingly stoic “NO!”
Me: “Yes, you do. You don’t use baby talk for anybody.”
Dad: “Cubans don’t love dogs!”
(My dad is half English, half Scottish, and very pale, so no chance of any Cuban heritage. I look at him, confused.)
Me: “But you’re not Cuban.”
Dad: confused “No, I’m not.”
(We sit there in confused silence for a minute or two.)
Me: “Then why did you say, ‘Cubans don’t love dogs?'”
Dad: “Humans don’t love dogs.”
